


i love you

by nameless_sovereign



Series: Our Memories [3]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Bruce Wayne is Bad at Relationships, Jeremiah Valeska is Bad at Relationships, Kinda Fluffy, M/M, Soft Jeremiah Valeska, Trainwreck of a fic, a dash of angst, but i tired so that should count for something
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:08:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25674076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nameless_sovereign/pseuds/nameless_sovereign
Summary: Bruce wished he had said 'i love you' and Jeremiahs makes up for the time it took him to realize that he was in love
Relationships: Jeremiah Valeska/Bruce Wayne, Joker (DCU)/Bruce Wayne
Series: Our Memories [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1693042
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	1. the missed 'i love you's

Sometimes Bruce wished he could express to Jeremiah how much he truly meant to him. Before everything happened he didn’t get a chance. They weren’t strangers to deep late night discussions, but saying it was too much. He knew what happened to people he loved. They got put in the way of danger, and they had to fight to survive. Jeremiah already had to do that, and Bruce couldn’t imagine making him go through that again. He wouldn’t put him through that pain again; he loved him too much. Instead he stayed silent wishing the times that he could’ve said ‘I love you’ he had. Now he was forced to watch him from afar making declarations that were so close to ‘I love you’ without so many words. 

Smiling bitterly at the image of Jeremiah doing his overdramatic sashay towards him. He remembered how he used to have two left feet. How is it that this goddamn toxin could change his Jeremiah so much, yet leave enough of him that Bruce couldn’t bring himself to let go. Licking his lips he tried to stay focused in the moment, and focus on the little ramble of Jeremiah’s about how connected the two are, but sometimes memories are too strong, especially when they’re so much more pleasant than what was actually happening. 

“NOt that foot, follow my lead.” Bruce giggled as his hand on Jeremiah's hip pulled him to follow, but mostly had Jeremiah tripping the two. Despite having his eyes glued to the two of their feet he still was unable to follow the simple dance. 

“Why would I even need to dance?” Jeremiah groaned as he stepped on Bruce's foot yet again. Jeremiah had been invited to a charity event for a children’s hospital that he had designed, with the sponsorship of Wayne Enterprise, “I probably shouldn’t even go. I’ve been a recluse for a long time, Bruce.” Bruce’s eyes had been directed to his shoulder, but his words had them moving to study his face. Jeremiah’s eyes were still glued to his feet, but now it wasn’t just so he was able to stay standing, but also so he could hide his slowly reddening face.

“It doesn’t matter what people think, you can spend the entire time talking to me.” Brue murmured, a slight warmth creeping up to warm his face as well. His lips quirked slightly as Jeremiah’s eyes glanced at him for a moment. They had slowed from their original dance and more just swaying. Bruce resisted the urge to say more. He didn’t want Jeremiah to feel like he had to go, but Bruce really wanted him there. It would be the first time that they would go somewhere where the camera could chance a picture of the two, and some part deep in Bruce wanted people to know that Jeremiah was perfect, and sweet, and nothing like Jerome’s insanity.

Jeremiah risked a look at him, and held his gaze. It was like he wasn’t sure if Bruce was telling the truth. As if he was waiting for Bruce to withdraw the offer, “Bruce, I-” He took a deep breath to regather his thoughts before continuing, “You’re the CEO; you’re expected to mingle with the other guests,” The smile Jeremiah was giving pulled at his heart. It hurt his heart so much to see that look. The one that said he was used to being scared and alone. He wanted to hold his face and tell him that no one else mattered besides him, and that he would gladly stand beside him for the rest if time. That Bruce loved him with his whole heart, and if he was given the choice to talk to anyone else in the world, or Jeremiah, he would choose Jeremiah without a second's hesitation.

“‘Miah,” I love you. The words would be so easy to say, but he knew once they were said they can’t go away. He would forever put a target on this man’s back, “I would much rather be with you.” Bruce gave him a small smile, hoping that Jeremiah would understand the secret meaning. Would understand that this is Bruce saying that he loves him with his entire being. He hoped with the smile that Jeremiah was giving meant that he understood.

“So I step left, then step to the side then back.” Jeremiah repeated back slowly as he tried to follow his own instructions, face scrunched up in adorable confusion mixed with frustration. 

After a couple of hours and a promise later, the two separated. Bruce went back to his home and Jeremiah to his room. Tomorrow was the night of the dance. Bruce figured that Jeremiah had enough of an understanding of the box step, masculine and feminine positions, that he could dance and could hold his own, hopefully. Bruce had still reserved his first and last dance for Jeremiah. 

Bruce had arrived at Jeremiah’s bunker an hour early, fully dressed for the event. Bruce was dressed in a white suit jacket with a white tie with a black shirt and pants. He walked in to find Jeremiah in his boxers and a white shirt half unbuttoned as he looked over several suits to wear. He gave him a look of desperation while holding up two different jackets as he looked in the mirror. 

As Bruce smiled fondly at the worried Jeremiah he had to repress the urge to kiss him senseless while telling him how much he loved him against his lips. Instead, he grabbed a simple dark purple jacket and matching tie and placed it so they hung up on the edge of the mirror.

“This will help you blend in, and I’m partial to you in purple.” Bruce gave him a soft smile as he started working on buttoning up his shirt, it was off by a couple buttons, “Now, remember, I will be next to you the entire time. If you want to leave just say the codeword, you remember it, right ‘Miah?” Bruce asked, buttoning the last buttons as he looked into Jeremiah’s eyes, noticing how his face had tinted slightly red. Jeremiah swooped down to kiss him on the cheek, and Bruce, with the perfect reaction time, turned to kiss his lips. Kissing was still weird for the two of them. Selina had never been one for affection, and Jeremiah was literally living under a rock. Neither was too experienced in the realms of relationships. 

“Are you sure you don’t mind.” Jeremiah leaned his forehead against Bruce’s as their breaths mingled. With a swift kiss to the corner of his mouth Bruce assured him he was absolutely positive. 

“Get dressed, you’ll look handsome, and everyone will want to meet you.” Bruce promised, and moved into Jeremiah’s office to look over the notes the two had taken over the generators, allowing Jeremiah privacy. Well, Jeremiah more so than him. They were prone to distracting one another during their ‘work’ meetings, and Bruce wasn’t as well versed in architecture and design, like Jeremiah, so sometimes it was more teaching than actually talking. 

Once Jeremiah was dressed he found Bruce frowning at the blueprints absentmindedly tracing the line. Bruce was wondering about how this could go. What if people liked him too much? Is it possible that Jeremiah would want to leave him after finding out what other people were like? Surely not. The questions chased circles in his head as he finally peeled his eyes away from the lines that his mind isn't translating into anything like Jeremiah’s mind would. What if he found an architect who could stimulate his mind in ways Bruce wasn’t always capable of?

“Ready to go?” The gentle words pulled Bruce back into the reality where Jeremiah was gently touching his arm giving him a worried look, that Bruce felt wasn’t just for how he had zoned out, but also for the event. 

“Yeah, let’s go.” Bruce held his hand as they walked to his car. Bruce was usually the one who drove. Jeremiah had taken his drivers test online, and only drove for however long it took him to pass the test. It was safest this way. 

The two pulled up to the event where the valet was scurrying around to park the expensive cars. Jeremiah’s jaw clenched as he saw the paparazzi, and reporters gathered around the entrance. 

“It’ll be better inside.” Bruce smiled at him and offered him a hand as he parked the car himself. When he started driving himself he found that taking a few minutes before going inside helped him steel himself against the occasionally painful looks people would send his way. Jeremiah didn’t say anything in response, just holding tightly to his hand, as if he loosened his grip anymore he’d float away from earth.

It was a bunch of flashing lights, and Jeremiah had slipped his hand from Bruce’s grasp, leaving his hand feeling cold and empty as they walked into the large ballroom. Immediately people swarmed around the two of them. Some ask invasive questions about Jeremiah’s family, and their friendship (or relationship). Others were about how the generators were going, and trying to find out the secrets of the production. After many non-answers from Bruce, and awkward looks and half-answers from Jeremiah, the people let up, allowing the two to finally be able to talk to each other and find their seats. 

“We can leave any time you want, just say the codeword and we’re out of here as fast as light.” Bruce promised as Jeremiah sent him a thankful look. 

They were almost halfway through the night when he heard the loud grating voice of Ms. Elliot, Tommy Elliot’s mother, “Bruce Wayne! Is that you darling?” Bruce plastered on a fake smile as he mouthed to Jeremiah, ‘wish me luck,’ before turning around to face her.

“I thought that was you! How have you been? Tommy’s nose is healing well,” She said pointedly with a painfully sweet smile. 

“That’s good, I was just talking to Jeremiah here about how I need to get a get-well card.” Bruce gestured to Jeremiah who nodded quickly, backing up Bruce’s story. 

“Yes, he was very concerned for his health, ma’am.” Jeremiah added, with that same tight smile Bruce remembered his use with he told humorless jokes about his childhood when their conversation drifted into dark times.

“How sweet, is this your new boy toy, Mr. Wayne?” She asked, leaving Bruce to face kindness to fall away. Jeremiah was much more than that.

“Actually, he’s leading one of Wayne Enterprises most important projects right now, and was the architect behind Wayne Plaza. He’s one of the smartest people at my company right now, and I would greatly appreciate it if you were to treat him as such.” Bruce added with a fake polite smile. He felt Jeremiah tense. The woman started to open her mouth as her face flushed with Bruce’s harsh words. She could tell she had upset him, and Bruce was somewhat of a loose cannon compared to many in the blueblood society he was born into. As she gaped like a fish Jeremiah looked down at his watch, and looked concerned at Bruce, “Oh, Bruce, it’s almost time to go converse with him over the termination.” He added sympathetically looking towards Ms. Elliot. Termination, the codeword. Jeremiah wanted to leave, and leave they shall. 

“Oh, I’m sorry if I held you up, please excuse me.” She chirped with a fake apology dripping from her lips and stalking towards the group of parents from Anders Preparatory Academy. Bruce slid his hand down Jeremiah’s arm to lead him towards the back exit. He kept his grip loose so if Jeremiah would prefer to not hold his hand in public he could let his hand slip away. He didn’t. Jeremiah’s finger tightly held onto Bruce's as the two made their way toward the kitchen exit. When the cold air curled around them Jeremiah’s face relaxed. He didn’t look near as uncomfortable as he did inside. 

“I am so sorry.” Bruce wrapped Jeremiah in a hug, “She is worthless, and unimportant. I-” love you. He was so close to saying it. Even without the words being said he had a target on his back, those words will only make everything that much worse for Jeremiah. 

Jeremiah’s head was resting in the crook of Bruce’s neck. It was sort of an awkward position, but both needed it. Bruce needed Jeremiah to know that he would always be there for him. Jeremiah needed someone he loved and trusted to be with him; Jeremiah’s social battery was drained. He wasn’t a person made to be around so many others, at least not that quickly.

“Wanna go home?” Bruce hadn’t realized he said home, but when he felt Jeremiah’s soft smile and nodded against his skin, he knew that Jeremiah liked that he felt that comfortable around him. That Bruce didn’t see him as an obligation. 

Back at the bunker, Jeremiah’s head rested on Bruce's lap, softly snoring as Bruce carded his finger through his soft red hair. His body buzzing with warmth from Jeremiah’s alcohol, the words bubbled up in his throat. He felt the urge to say those words again. He felt like he always had the urge to say it when Jeremiah was with him. They were a target that was so tempting sometimes. Instead he attempted to say them quietly to the sleeping man in his lap, “I...” 

He still couldn’t. He loved him too much. And Bruce Wayne will always love Jeremiah Valeska until he dies, and even then his soul will be searching for Jeremiah's to feel complete.


	2. the first 'i love you'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jeremiah makes a plan to tell bruce 'i love you'

Jeremiah wanted Bruce to know how much he loved him. He just wasn’t quite sure why it was so important to him. No, he did know. It was because somehow Bruce saw him as someone worth something. He wasn’t seen as Jerome’s brother. He didn’t need to lie to him in order to keep his attention. He just had to exist and Bruce was there. He was there listening to him, smiling at him with that dopey grin of his. There was a photo of Bruce he had one of Jerome's goons take. He was wearing sunglasses getting out of his car to talk with Gordon, probably about whatever chaos had erupted across Gotham at the time, or about his parents.

“Don’t worry, Bruce, I have a little surprise planned for you.” His fingers gently caressed Bruce’s grumpy face. Jeremiah used to love that face, even when it was directed at him. But now… Now when Bruce looked at him with his grumpy face it was almost deadly, and it had that underlying look of betrayal. Jeremiah hated that look. Bruce didn’t deserve to be hurt, he only deserved every perfect and good thing the world had to offer, and if he wanted it, him. Before he showed Bruce who he was entirely, it was almost joking when Bruce looked at him like that. He would only look at him like that when Jeremiah refused a photo, or when he would do his actual job that Wayne Enterprise was funding rather than paying full attention to him. It didn’t take that much pouting for him to correct that course of action. Sometimes Bruce tried to help, and he was a quick learner, but still, he was usually more of a distraction, so most of the work had to be done when Bruce, and his beautiful brown eyes weren’t around.

Jeremiah had a plan to show Bruce that he loved him, and that he was still the man Bruce knew. He needs Bruce’s forgiveness. He missed Bruce’s soft calloused touches, the simple weight of him leaning against him. God, what he would do just to feel Bruce whispering against his ear again as they both carefully hid away in a hole-in-the-wall restaurant sharing secret conversations. 

He knew Bruce didn’t require extravagance, but Jeremiah needed everyone to know that Bruce was his, and that if anyone ever hurt him, in any way, Jeremiah would tear them to shreds. It had to be the perfect middle ground of soft and secretive for Bruce to understand how serious and important this was. To show that he wasn’t like Jerome, who couldn’t truly love anyone but himself. But it also has to have that fanaticism that would show everyone in Gotham just how much Jeremiah would go to protect and love and serve Bruce. 

It took Jeremiah too long to find out that he was willing to do anything for Bruce. For being a genius, you would think he would find out when he was willing to face Jerome with him, and welcome into his home time after time when Bruce had poorly thought out excuses of coming over. 

After a week of silence, Jeremiah worried that Bruce would’ve forgotten about him in the chaos that had taken over Gotham. Normally the two would’ve found some form of communication, or ran into each other before then. Whether by Bruce snooping around in a suspected location that Jeremiah may have broadcasted a little too much, or from Jeremiah stalking around locations he knew Bruce had frequented. Sometimes it was a simple letter left at past hideouts either Jeremiah to Bruce, or Bruce to Jeremiah. They weren’t like the letter he used to receive that had dorky smiley faces, and hearts. These were short and to the point, usually a threat or two. Jeremiah, still kept the theme of being a little too flirty for enemies, but he never heard Bruce complain. He still cherished the one time he heard the sharp exhale of air that he was sure was a slight laugh. 

Once all of the preparations were done, and everyone was in, Jeremiah made his way to Wayne Manor. It still had the security code from the odd occasions on which he would accompany Bruce on his way home to pick up something he had forgotten. Clearly, that was a sign that he was wanted. That he still had a chance. In his hands were three things, and a mixtape titled, ‘even without gravity i would fall for you <3’ along with a plain DVD with, ‘please watch all of it’ written into it, and finally a letter tucked into a fancy envelope with Bruce’s name scrawled on top. Only one of those was made before the two had their falling out. It was clear to tell through the change in writing. The words on the DVD and letter were small, and had slight hesitation marks in each word, while the mixtape’s words were written large, almost not fitting, and they seemed so confident. 

The Wayne manor did, however, have their locks changed, and Jeremiah didn’t have a copy of those keys. Luckily, there were windows leading into the study. Much to his dismay, Jeremiah removed his jacket and wrapped it around his elbow, as he had seen others do before. It took him a couple tries before breaking the window. Despite the issues, he was glad that he could go alone. It allowed him a chance to see the slight changes that had occured while Bruce was upset with him. His finger gently traced over Bruce's preferred spot on the couch. Even with the silent alarm already going off, Jeremiah took a few more seconds to breathe in the scent of Bruce before gently laying down his presents for Bruce on the desk. He wished there was a way for him to see Bruce's reaction, but he promised to never spy on Bruce. One time when they were both a little bit more than buzzed Bruce said how sometimes he hated ever leaving his house, that it felt that no matter where he went everyone had eyes and cameras on him. 

With his heart in his throat and his face almost beet red with a small amount of sweat starting to coat his face as his anxiety took control of his mind, Jeremiah went back to his home ready for the show to begin.


	3. i wish i couldn't love you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bruce watches jeremiah’s video and reads his letter

Bruce started on his way home as soon as his phone alerted him to an intruder in his home, yet again. Sometimes he wondered why he bothered even having an alarm system if every villain, and sometimes too eager reporter, broke in. Alfred was busy, and much to his dismay, Bruce went back to his home by himself. He was far enough away that whoever was there was sure to be out by the time he got there. 

When he arrived at Wayne Manor he found the window to his father’s office had been broken. He stepped carefully to the edge to peer into the room. There on the edge of his father’s desk was an envelope, cassette tape, and DVD case. He walked back to his front door, unlocking it and carefully looking around. He was anxiously waiting to find someone to jump out and attack him. 

No one did. Instead Bruce made his way to the office without any incidents. He waited at the doorway. He stomach twisting for what could lie inside. He wondered if maybe he missed something from his initial look around the office. With a deep breath to ground himself he pushed the door, still unwilling to just walk in. He looked around the room taking careful steps towards the desk, and the contents that he was sure was waiting for him.

His hands tightened around the letter a bit too tightly as he recognized the messy, too familiar handwriting of his friend. His ex-friend. He wasn’t sure why his hands were shaking now. He could see the difference between the writing on the items, yet both brought tears to his eyes. How could he still have the same handwriting? Why was that fair? He remembers watching the evolution of that handwriting. In the early weeks of their meetings where ‘Miah still thought through every syllable he uttered, with his handwriting small and hardly legible from how much he hesitated when writing each word. How in the final months his handwriting had become larger, and everything almost ran on top of each other as if he couldn’t write fast enough. Why did he still make the double loops on his ‘o’s still, and why were his ‘l’s still allowed to tilt so far to the right? Bruce’s lips pressed together as his eyes stung in what he wished was anger. Anger at how Jeremiah had broken into his home. How he destroyed his sanctuary. 

It wasn’t why his nose prickled with pressure, and his eyes became glassy. No, it was longing, and sorrow. He missed his Jeremiah more than anything. He wanted to feel Jeremiah’s arms wrapped around him telling him that this was all some bizarre illusion made by Scarecrow, or to feel his lips pressing to his temple as he awoke from a coma. Anything to bring back Jeremiah, and who he knew him to be. Not whatever had taken over. Not this heartless cruel joke of a man that had taken over his body. He wiped his eyes before any tears had the chance to fall. 

Bruce wanted more than anything to rip the ribbon of tape from the cassette. To watch the letter burn and crumble to a pile of ashes. He longed to remove the DVD from its case and watch it shatter before melting the piece to nothing. 

He couldn’t. He wanted to know what made Jeremiah think that he could just break into his home and leave these things. Bruce worries that ‘Miah had someone watching the home, or placed cameras around the room, but somehow he knew he didn’t. They each seemed to have boundaries despite their new status of being enemies, and somehow Bruce knew Jeremiah wouldn’t do that to him. Just like he never mentions what his uncle has done, or threatens Ecco. They refused to cross certain lines with each other. Bruce swallowed as he tucked the items away and carried them back to his room, and grabbed an expensive vase, planning on telling Alfred that the vase was the reason for the break-in. Why was he still protecting Jeremiah? He felt as if it was like the one time where he had to secretly hide Jeremiah in his room after he had gotten particularly wasted during a meeting. That was the first time they slept in the same bed. 

With the items safely hidden away, Bruce quickly threw the expensive vase out of the window out of the back of the house just as Alfred called him to say he was almost at the manor. 

Bruce sat in his office blankly staring out the window. Could he save Jeremiah? Or would he lose him forever? Somehow Bruce knew he would never be able to do that, even if it meant betraying who he was on a fundamental level he would never be able to deal with another loss. Numbly chewed on the supper Alfred had made trying to focus on whatever the company needed him to read and approve this week. Bruce didn’t trust his board enough to not put in front of him some contract forcing his employees to sell their first child into experimentation with Dr. Strange. His eyes read the same line for maybe the twentieth time still not comprehending a word. Knowing that Jeremiah had been here was too much. Bruce kept imagining the smell of his cologne, and seeing flashes of him despite knowing that he was long gone. 

Bruce wasn’t sure how long he was staring blankly at the contract, or when he even decided to even move away from the office. Before Bruce knew it he was opening the case of the DVD and placing it into the player. The manor was quiet. Alfred had to have gone to bed already. Bruce wiped his palms on his pants as the DVD came into focus on Jeremiah’s face. He had placed his glasses on. And his hair was its natural red. Bruce’s throat tightened at the sight. He was the man he used to love. Bruce wished that thought was the end of the truth. That his love was left with who Jeremiah used to be, but it wasn’t. It had carried over to this green haired menace. He still had the same mannerisms. The same voice, and mind. His mind was still so brilliant, just used so dangerously. 

“Hello, Bruce. I’m not sure which one you will open first, this or the letter, but they're quite similar. I might not even send both. I’m not sure.” Jeremiah glanced down frowning slightly before looking back towards the camera. “Both a declaration and a promise.” Jeremiah’s eyes didn’t stay trained on the camera. Bruce breathed carefully as he remembered the first time he had laid eyes on the architect. How hard he had to control himself to focus on the task at hand. How his heart had leapt into his throat when their hands touched. There weren’t sparks and fireworks like he expected. Just a buzz that had his entire arm numb. 

“Well, Bruce, this is surprisingly difficult to say. I had thought that maybe saying it to an inanimate object might be easier than writing it word for word.” Jeremiah gave a humorless smile and looked into the camera, as if staring into Bruce’s soul. Jeremiah didn’t need this much power over him. It wasn’t fair, “But, Bruce, you should know. I will never leave you. I will show you the connection we have until you kill me. Bruce, know this, I swear to love you until my bones are dust, and the world is engulfed in flames. I will love you as I take my dying breath, and I will love you when you take yours.” Jeremiah’s lips were tight as his eyes focused on the camera. Bruce felt his face warming. Why couldn’t he have said this before now? Why couldn’t he make this declaration before killing who knows how many. God, why couldn’t he have said this before?

Bruce wished he could say these words didn’t make him smile and didn't bring him happiness. That they only brought fear, and disbelief, maybe even a bit of hatred to the surface, but they didn’t. Those words almost had him giddy, and he hated it. He hated how he found himself bitterly smiling at the screen wishing he could touch him. 

The camera shook and the screen changed to the new Jeremiah. He was wearing his glasses as well. He didn’t share the hesitant look of his past-self, but Bruce could still read him well enough to see him tap his thigh, a nervous tick. “Bruce, remember that bench up on the hill? Meet me there tonight, say 11:45?” Jeremiah glanced at his watch, “I best be going. Bruce, I love you, and I always will, even if you hate with every atom in your body. Please, be there with me, Bruce” Bruce hadn’t realised he was crying, and he quietly whispers into the empty room, with silent tears falling down his face, “And I have always loved you, ‘Miah” The screen blink into to a plain black screen, and Bruce wanted to hear Jeremiah say it all again. He wanted Jeremiah’s voice to tell him he loved him, and he wanted Jeremiah sitting next to him. He wanted to feel his presence. He wanted to feel him say it again. And again, and again, until it were the only words he knew.

Bruce turned to the envelope. Jeremiah had said they were basically the same thing. Maybe this would make him feel like Jeremiah was with him. His hands quivered as he tried to unfold the paper. Jeremiah doesn't lick envelopes, instead he tucks the flaps into themselves. Bruce's fingers moved too excitedly and before he knew it, Bruce hissed with a drop of blood running down his finger. A small paper cut. With the letter clenched tightly his hands. He didn’t care that his blood was smearing the edge of the paper, he was too eager to know what Jeremiah had written. 

'My Darling Bruce,  
I have missed you. I wonder when you’ll finally talk to me. It’s been a while now, or maybe only a couple days... I’ve finally listened to those songs you wanted me to listen to. I understand why you enjoy them. I’ve made a tape for you of a few of the songs that remind me of you, of us. Of our connection. I do hope you enjoy it. There are some songs that express things I can’t vocally, but I try to portray with my actions. 

I was right about the camera, Bruce. It's far easier to say the words to an object, then place them in ink knowing you will read it. But know this '

This was from a while ago. He could tell by the change of ink colors mid-way through the letter. It was a couple weeks before the revelation that the two had discussed their favorite songs and promised to listen to them. It was the first thing Bruce did when he got in his car. He made a playlist for him of every song he even mentioned faintly enjoying. 

The ink changed from black to bright purple, the letters growing from the small letters Jeremiah had been using when they first started meeting to the large too-close letters the Jeremiah uses. 

'Oh, Bruce! How I miss you. I have a black eye from the punch from earlier today. Does your hand hurt? That is unimportant to this letter, however. This letter as you can tell, is unfinished. Or maybe I just left out the best part intentionally? What do you think? This letter, and that tape, was made just for you Bruce, to tell you how I feel. How I’m sure you feel as well. To tell you about love. The love I have for you. It’s about our connection, Bruce, I know you feel it as well. I have a few other surprises planned, so please meet me tonight at that bench on the hill. Alone. I’ll be alone too. I have a surprise for you, I think you’ll enjoy this one.

Please be there, Bruce. I love you more than you’ll ever know. Nothing you do will ever make me feel otherwise. Even if you hate me with every ounce of your being.'

Bruce wanted so badly to not return the feelings. To feel repulsed, or at least a small bit of distaste of a mass murderer loving him. Instead he had butterflies, and a small pain filled smile gracing his lips as he got ready to go meet him at the bench on the hill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the mixtape;  
> panic room - au/ra  
> gold - kiiara  
> play with fire - sam tinnesz  
> bellyache - billie eilish  
> like that - bea miller  
> crossfire - stephen  
> the night we met - lord huron  
> tonguetied - grouplove  
> no angel - bastille  
> bottom of the river - delta rae  
> all i want - kodaline  
> mess is mine - vance joy


End file.
